Genuine festival of culture, not celebrity

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The superstitious may have thought the gods were unhappy with
Womadelaide, such was the ferocity of the rainstorm that greeted
the opening night.

Dripping umbrellas and muddy feet were the order of the day as
the Belgian band Zap Mama tried to inject some African heat into
proceedings. "The sun is shining, the weather is sweet," they sang
hopefully.

France's multi-talented ensemble Lo'Jo also struggled to
overcome the weather with a complex, often baffling, performance of
dub, Afro-beat and Jacques Brel-style chansons.

By the time the headlining Alpha Blondy, from the Ivory Coast,
hit the stage, only the most diehard fans remained. Sadly, even
this world-music veteran failed to lift the mood - reggae and rain
are not happy bedfellows.

By Saturday the rain clouds had lifted and Womadelaide returned
to its familiar groove: a weekend of innocence, global optimism,
feel-good consumerism and family fun, all held in Adelaide's own
little Eden, the Botanic Park.

Luckily, festivals such as Womadelaide are as much about chance
encounters as they are about big-name acts, and this one was no
exception, introducing such exciting talents as Jim Moray, Daara J,
Ozomatli and Vusi Mahlasela to a wider Australian audience.

Reports of Womadelaide's impending demise (artistically, if not
financially) are well wide of the mark. Thirteen years after the
old fig trees sheltered the likes of Youssou N'Dour, Nusrat Fateh
Ali Khan and Dr Subramaniam, organisers this year brought together
a line-up which fulfilled their original promise - to showcase
musical cultures from every part of the globe.

Those who expect Womadelaide to morph into some kind of
world-music hit parade will always be disappointed. As the veteran
American folk singer Richie Havens, another festival highlight, put
it, this is a celebration of heart, not celebrity. "We may play
different music, but the reasons we do it are the same," he
said.

WOMAD (World of Music Arts and Dance), the brainchild of Peter
Gabriel, remains what it started out as - a vehicle for packaging
together diverse, obscure and often contradictory musical
traditions. Where else would you find a classical string ensemble
(Kronos Quartet) on the same line-up as Senegalese rappers (Daara
J), a 25-member Maori dance troupe (Te Matarae i Orehu) and a
French gypsy band playing Yiddish'n'roll (Les Yeux Noirs)?

Everyone who tasted the laid-back magic of Botanic Park (this
year fabulously decked out with massed flags and flaming torches)
will come away with their own musical epiphany.

For me, the honours are equally split between the precocious
English folk talent of Moray, the astonishing vocal virtuosity of
the South African singer Mahlasela and the languid sophistication
of the Indian classical singer Ustad Rashid Khan (accompanied by
the brilliant tabla player Subhankar Banerjee).

At just 23, Moray, a fresh-faced troubadour from Macclesfield,
England, is something of a legend in his homeland, thanks to his
debut album, Sweet England. Backed by a three-piece band, he
delivered a succession of raw, impassioned folk songs such as the
classic Poverty Knock with an unnerving confidence and Brit
Pop swagger.

Crowd favourites such as Capercaillie, Ozomatli, Daara J and Not
Drowning, Waving (the band specially reformed for Womadelaide) also
delighted, but it was Mahlasela, South Africa's poet of
reconciliation, who soared above the rest. Mahlasela has a voice of
such beauty that your heart misses a beat. This is dignity writ
large. Amandla!